I had a friend years ago who used to say quirky little things like, "Don't forget your sunshine, Sweetie!" and made them sound perfectly normal. She's someone who radiated warmth; she was unapologetically happy, all the time. She lit up the room just by stepping through the door. I was thinking about her a few days ago, remembering when we worked together in the Christmas department of Dillard's in our twenties. She moved to California in 2006, the same year my son was born, and as the course of life led us in opposite directions we lost touch. Still, she's one of those people you don't easily forget, and I always think of her when it's time to decorate the house for Christmas. That same year I was given a beautiful, two-liter food mill at Chistmastime. It was complete surprise, but I guess I'd complained one-too-many times to just about everyone that my old, cheap little food mill, which I bought to make baby food, was not too far from worthless as it left a greasy residue on the food no matter how thoroughly I washed it.